Posts Tagged ‘CBS’

The Results

I noticed some unexpected traffic on the site earlier, and tracked it to the CBS website. It seems that the results of the Most Valuable Blogger Awards have been posted. Well gosh golly gee, look at that:

I can’t get that Karate Kid song out of my head.

While I don’t want a Dewey Defeats Truman scene on my hands, I think it’s safe to call it.
CBS Boston’s Most Valuable Blogger 2011 in the Category of Dining and Entertainment:


However, this was for the Editor’s Choice, which means I didn’t win the popular vote.

Which means you people didn’t vote enough.

So thanks for nothing.

I’m kidding.

Seriously, thanks to everyone who voted and checked out my drunken ramblings. Lots more to come, especially now that my ego is out of control and I’ll be referring to myself as award-winning blogger SquirrelFarts McAwesome. I can hear Lady Friend groaning from here.

I was going to celebrate with some champagne tonight, but happen to be in a bit of a sparkling wine deficit, thanks to Friday night’s adventures. So, a lovely beer will have to do. I’ve been saving this one for several weeks: Anderson Valley’s 20th Anniversary Imperial India Pale Ale.

Cheers, Boston.

Last Day of Voting!

Yes chumps and chumpettes, it’s the last day to vote for me for CBS-Boston’s Most Valuable Blogger award. If I win, I might get to go on tv and then you’ll get to see me!

…hey! Wait! Come back! Ok ok ok you don’t have to watch. But vote anyway. Do it for drinking. Do it because Squirrel Farts is a funny name. Do it… for AMERICA. If you don’t vote, the terrorists win. AND THEY DON’T DRINK. So they’re totally evil.

Rule 37: The Hurricane

Well, Hurricane Tropical Storm Windy Day Irene has passed, leaving Squirrel Farts HQ unscathed, aside from a mild flickering of electricity, and an intermittent loss of cable and internet services. Thankfully, a supply of craft beers, cocktail-destined citrus fruits and chips kept the Lady Friend and I well prepared for a weekend of couch time. Saturday wound up being just plain rainy, and we were able to venture out for sustenance at the Union Brewhouse, where we are both working our way through their 99 beer list. (If you get through all 99 you get a plaque!) Sunday was a tad breezy, though nowhere near the doomsday scenario everyone was soiling themselves over for the several days prior to Irene’s landfall, and we worked through my surplus DVR stash of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, though some midnight snacker had devastated my precious chip supply.

Naturally, the cocktail of choice for the day had to be the Hurricane, and was apparently a popular status update on Facebook. Everyone’s clever. However, I tend to think that very few actually had a Hurricane, and still fewer made their own. This is one of those drinks that many claim to have invented, and recipes vary drastically, only agreeing on a few key ingredients, such as rum (though I did see a version that included vodka. Le sigh). The popular origin is credited to Pat O’Brien’s Bar in New Orleans, sometime in the late 1930s/ early 1940s. Allegedly, scotch was hard to acquire, due those rascally Krauts stirring up trouble AGAIN, so bars were forced to order a large number of cases of rum before the distributors would sell them the limited supplies of peaty whisky. Pat O’Brien’s made up a recipe containing a ton of rum, poured in a bunch of fruit juice, and served it in hurricane lamp glasses. Um. That’s it.

The Hurricane
(adapted from Dale DeGroff’s recipe)

– 1.5oz light rum (Bully Boy white)
– 1.5oz dark rum (Meyer’s Dark)
– 3/4oz fresh lime juice
– 2oz passion fruit juice
– 2oz fresh orange juice
– 2oz pineapple juice
– 1oz raw simple syrup
– 2 dashes Angostura bitters
– Generous dash of grenadine

Shake like trees in the wind, pour like water into a flooding basement, and drink like there’s no tomorrow.

Yup. You can continue to vote for me for CBS’s “Most Valuable Blogger Award.”
One vote a day keeps the doctor away.

Warning: This statement has not been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration. This product is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease.

Review: Bully Boy White Rum

As you may have noticed from my constant endorsements, I’m a fan of Bully Boy Distillers, Boston’s first craft distillery since Prohibition.


Because I wasn’t thinking clearly after the liquor geek-out time on the tour, it didn’t occur to me to purchase a bottle at the nearby liquor store before braving the Southeast not-so-Expressway. Since then, it’s been a mission to track down and acquire a bottle of their product for my home bar/ happy place. But which? Well for one thing, they have three products on the shelves at the moment; vodka, white whiskey, and white rum. Currently sitting in barrels is an aged rum, and an aged whiskey, which should both be ready at various times next year. Basically whenever they taste like distilled awesomeness (see what I did there?).

So after a visit to Harpoon Brewery recently, the Lady Friend and I ventured down to Liquor Land in South Boston, where I knew I could snag a bottle (it’s about a block from the distillery). I had called them previously trying to get a price estimate, but couldn’t get in touch with anyone. A craft product like this could get quite pricey, so I had no idea what sort of neighborhood I was dealing with. Fortunately, they had several bottles of the rum, vodka and whiskey in stock, all retailing for about $28. Nice. $30 per bottle is where I really start to lose interest these days, and I was glad to see Bully Boy come in under the mark. When I toured and tasted at the distillery, the rum blew me away, so that’s what I ultimately bought.

Batch No. 1, Bottle No. 44.

Now, what you should understand about this rum is that it’s unlike a “standard” white rum. Pop the cork on this bad boy and sweet vanilla sugar grains skitter off through the atmosphere, like reverse fruit flies. It’s like the sweetness is trying to escape the bottle, lest you trap it back up again. It noses with a harsh alcoholic sting to the ol’ schnozzle, which evaporates quickly to reveal vanilla undertones with an abundance of sweetness. It’s made in the style of a traditional blackstrap rum, distilled from dark molasses. This was popular back in the day in Boston, as the city bustling port was a center of the sugar and molasses trade from the Caribbean. Rum was the drink of Colonial America, and Boston’s first distillery sprang up in 1667, though little Rhode Island was the big player in the rum game, outproducing everybody else by far. Then the Brits tried (and failed) to collect taxes on first molasses, then sugar. So we went to war and beat them up. As is my understanding. And now we talk correctly, saying things like al-oo-min-um not al-yoo-min-ee-um. Wikid pissah.

No molasses taxes!

Despite the alcoholic burn in the aroma, this rum tastes heavenly sweet. Sugar cookies with vanilla frosting. Cupcakes. Warming in the mouth, and light vanilla floral before the molasses mouthcoat. It’s not a syrupy or viscous mouthcoat, as found in an imperial ale or dessert wine, but fools your mouth with the sugary flavors. Dave, the distiller I met with at Bully Boy, describes it as being “like an aged, dark rum that isn’t aged.” I couldn’t describe it better. A Meyers or Gosling’s dark flavor, full of sugary molasses, but in a perfectly clear liquid. The aged version, which matures for about 8-9 months (they’re not sure yet, it’s the first batch) should be PHENOMENAL.

The Lady Friend and I tried a taste of the Bully Boy straight, to get a good sense of the spirit’s character. For comparison, she also tried Bacardi’s light/ white/ silver offering and found it to be much more alcoholic tasting; medicinal and sterile, making the Bully Boy that much sweeter. I splashed, shook, strained and served up a round of daiquiris (REAL daiquiris: 1.5oz rum, .75oz fresh sqeezed lime juice, 1oz simple syrup) and we sipped, slurped and slightly slurred our speculations. Dilicioso. Lady Friend even remarked that she’d “be as bold as to say it’s best one she’s ever had.”

Along with our cocktail consumption, we toasted as we usually do. However, this time the toast was simply “Bully!” and a new House Rule was born:

Hithertoforth, whenever proffering a toast, whilst raising a spiritous beverage
containing that whist hast been distill-ed by the Bully Boy troupe, a cry of
“Bully!” shall ring forth, preceding quaffing and the making of merriment.

I find this new decree to be exceedingly appropriate, as the cry not only refers to the distillery, but the namesake of the distiller and the origin of the namesake of the distillery. Ok. So, the Willis brothers named their distillery “Bully Boy” after their great-grandfather’s favorite farm horse, to keep a connection not only with their family farm, but also with their grandfather and his vaulted collection of Prohibition-era liquors.

UPDATE: I had some incorrect info up in the original draft. The REAL story is that the Willis’ GREAT-grandfather was Theodore Roosevelt’s Harvard roommate. Wait… what? AWESOME. So, later on, the great-grandfather named his favorite draft horse after the president, and his fondness for bellowing “Bully!” when the inclination struck him. “Bully,” in case you don’t speak old-timey, means “superb,” “well-done,” or “marvellous,” and was a key phrase associated with the Rough Rider.

TR, a true manly man, (don’t call him “Teddy”) was the Chuck Norris of his day except he actually DID all the ridiculous feats attributed to his legacy. He wrote a book about the naval tactics of the War of 1812 that is still taught today. He hunted down the thieves that stole his river boat, and guarded them for 40 hours straight while marching them to trial. He became president of the board of New York City Police Commissioners and straightened out the corrupted system. He practically started the Spanish-American war, and created a volunteer cavalry division called the Rough Riders. He was nominated for the freaking MEDAL OF HONOR (which he was awarded, posthumously, in 2001). And this was all BEFORE he ever became president. Seriously, go read a bit about him… he’s NUTS.

“Hush your bone box lest the dash-fire of my bunch of fives give you a fizzing nose-ender.
Now saw your timber, Chumpy!”

So we’ve got a rum with ties to Colonial Boston and one of the bear-punchingest presidents ever. What would TR have said about this rum? What else:


Fun Fact: While president, TR helped negotiate the peace terms of the Russo-Japanese War, which earned him the damn NOBEL PEACE PRIZE. The treaty was signed in the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, in Kittery/Portsmouth, ME/NH.

For our Bully Boy white whiskey review click here: Bully Boy White Whiskey
For our Bully Boy vodka review click here: Bully Boy Vodka
For our Bully Boy American Straight Whiskey review click here: Bully Boy ASW
For our visit to the Bully Boy distillery click here: Bully Boy Distillery

Btw, you can still vote for me for CBS’s “Most Valuable Blogger Award.” Just click on that badge picture on the left. You should do it every day.
Not like showering, which is totally optional depending on how cool your hair looks when you wake up.

Besides, TR would totally want you to vote for me. Plus, he thinks your hair looks cool sticking out to the side like that.

Seriously. Are you going to contradict Big Daddy Roosevelt? Don’t be off your chump. He’s having none of your sass mouth and will slap the gullyfluff right off your muckender, you scalawag.

Best Boston Blogger?

Apparently, I’ve been nominated for “CBS Boston’s Most Valuable Blogger Awards 2011.” I have no idea how, but it’s somewhat awesome sounding. So you should go vote for me. Because I am somewhat awesome. And you are somewhat awesome for reading this somewhat awesome blog. Vote!

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